Page 8 of Murder in Blackfriars

I laid my hand on his, saying nothing. Daniel dropped his gaze to the table, inhaling raggedly.

He’d once told me he remembered, as a very small boy, being comfortable and cared for, and then that life had been abruptly replaced with the harsh one of the streets. Daniel did not know what had happened to him to take him from that good place, whether he’d been lost, abducted, or abandoned.

He’d been at first taken in by a man called Compton, a villain and a harsh taskmaster, who’d taught Daniel to be a thief and petty crook. Daniel had learned the lessons so well he’d been able to escape Compton and live again on the streets, this time by his wits.

Later, he was recruited by Mr. Carter, also a villain, though, according to Daniel, a kindhearted one.

Learning this gent’s information might give Daniel the answers about his past he’d been seeking for a long time.

“Are you certain he knows?” I asked quietly. “Fraudsters prey on your most urgent wishes. You know that.”

“I do.” Daniel clasped my hand tightly. “That is why I am consultingyou, Kat. I’d like you to meet this man, hear what he has to say, and give me your clearheaded opinion. I will never be objective.”

I too wanted more than anything to hear what the mysterious man had to say, but I warned myself to be cautious.

“He might bolt if you try to bring in another person. Has he asked you for money?”

“Yes.” Daniel admitted this ruefully. “I know—he’s probably a trickster, but I couldn’t simply dismiss him. Of all the information people have tried to sell me over the years, none have involved my parentage. He said he saw me wandering about Southwark with Grimes and James, and he recognized me. Or, rather, James put him strongly in mind of me as a lad. He couldn’t recall at first where he’d seen me before, but it came to him sometime later. So he claims. When he came across Grimes again, he asked to speak to me.”

The circumstances seemed far-fetched, though I didn’t say so. “Did you pay him?”

Daniel became more shamefaced. “I did. A crown only, with the promise of more when we met again.”

“That at least might make him come back to you,” I said. “Or else he is a crown richer and will disappear.”

“I know all this.” Daniel slid his hand from mine and lifted his teacup. “But he did agree to another meeting, with you present—a friend who could listen impartially, I told him. He did not object.”

“Hmm.” If the man planned to cut his losses with the one coin Daniel had given him, he might agree to meet anyone, including the Queen of England. Easy to promise an appointment one had no intention of keeping.

“I’m certain it will come to nothing,” Daniel said, but I heard the longing in his voice. “Grimes was as skeptical as you are, but he said he’d always wonder if he dismissed the man out of hand.”

I agreed with Mr. Grimes. “I suppose it does no harm to speak to him.” I kept my tones cool, but I was as avid as Daniel to learn the man’s information. “Does he have a name, this gent?”

“He gave it as Banks, but didn’t offer his Christian name. He’s an itinerant builder, taking jobs repairing houses or helping out at building sites. He seemed a decent sort, amiable, not surly. Keeps his beard neatly trimmed and his clothes relatively clean and mended.”

I pointed to the rhubarb tart. “The crust will become soggy if you don’t eat that, you know. I am going to assume you found out all about the man between this afternoon and now, so you might as well tell me.”

Daniel broke into a laugh. “You know me too well, my Kat. A man could grow uncomfortable with that.”

He took a sip of tea, then set down the cup and picked up his fork to break off a piece of tart. He made me wait until he’d savored a mouthful before dabbing his lips with the napkin I’d provided.

The good-humored sparkle returned to his eyes, which I put down to the deliciousness of the rhubarb filling.

“His name is, in fact, Howard Banks,” Daniel began. “He has lived in various places in Bethnal Green as well as Southwark throughout his life. He is fifteen years my senior—in his early fifties now—so he could have recalled me as a child. Hedoes indeed drift about doing work with builders, and the builders I spoke to were satisfied with his work. Banks is reliable, shows up when he’s told, and takes his money and quietly goes home. Neither Grimes nor I found any evidence that he’s a fraudster or a thief, but that might mean he’s simply a good one. He lives in Holland Street in Southwark, near the river. His digs are slightly run-down, but that’s not unusual for that part of the city. They’re cheap, which is probably the point.”

Daniel finished his speech and refreshed himself with the tea.

“We’ll visit him, then, at his lodgings?” I asked. “Or somewhere more public?”

“I asked him to meet us north of the river.” Daniel returned his attention to the tart. “It will be more convenient for you, as the place I chose is near St. Paul’s. I fixed the time for Thursday at eleven in the morning. He has no work that day, though I fancy he’d give up a long day at a building site for the chance at another crown from me.”

A crown was five shillings, and a man might make two shillings a week if he was steadily employed.

“Thursday at eleven,” I said. “I will note it in my diary.”

Daniel’s eyes crinkled at my witticism. “I will meet you in Clover Lane and walk you there.”

Meaning he would not tell me where he’d fixed the appointment until the last minute. Did he fear I’d go and lie in wait for the fellow, interrogating him about what he meant getting Daniel’s hopes up?